The Ancient Ashes of Hearts
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: It's all smiles and stolen looks, but it's enough. Coda to The Unquiet Dead.


**Author's Notes: This one is weird. That's all I can really say about it. It's a headcanon I've had for some time now and it's only now that I put it into words. For the people who follow me for the Janto – fear not, I've got lots more planned for the next few days. This is just me being sort of strange sometimes.**

Gwyneth rarely even talked to him; his father wouldn't allow it. It would be extremely inappropriate to have them alone in the same room anyway, and she knew that she wouldn't have known what to say. It didn't make the temptation of looking for him any smaller.

The butcher was as disagreeable a man as he could get and Gwyneth knew that she would have probably avoided him if it hadn't been for the low prices.

And his son.

"Miss Cooper," he greeted and she turned around at the sound of his voice. And there he was; the perfect image of a young gentleman at leisure. There was an open book on his crossed legs and he eyed her with that small smile he always wore on his face. "What brings you to our fine shop today?"

There was a fair bit of mockery in his tone. Not for her; for himself, and for the entire situation they were in, but it was still unpleasant to see him so close to the edge of cynicism. She saw it all too often.

"Mr Jones!" She acknowledged as calmly as she could manage. "I came to pick up the weekly purchases; Mr Sneed wanted me to collect them for him."

Ianto's lazy smile disappeared and his face sobered up all of a sudden. "How can you stand him?" He murmured, reaching to her face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Gwyneth's breath caught in her throat. "He always works you too hard."

"You say that as if I have a choice," she said with a bitter laugh. He had yet to take his hand off her cheek where his long, spidery fingers rested, but she did not feel like complaining; not in the least.

"There is always a choice," he said softly.

"It's easier to believe that with a roof over your head and a family that loves you, Mr Jones," Gwyneth countered. It wouldn't be the first time for her to challenge his views based on the position he had in their society. He might have been the butcher's son, but he was young and beautiful and wealthy enough to be a desired bachelor. There was hardly a girl in Cardiff that didn't want him, and Gwyneth could bet that he was treating them just the way he treated her, but it didn't matter. When he smiled, his face lit up and his blue eyes became almost unbelievably bright.

"You're right. Would you like to have a home of your own?"

"Of course, yes!" Gwyneth exclaimed, bemused by the tentative, almost fearful way he looked at her.

"I suppose you could," he said, one finger reaching to trace her lips. She'd heard of that as well – that he had no concept of what was acceptable and what wasn't. It was part of the reason why everyone liked him so much, but it hadn't prepared her for the thrill it sent through her. "My father says that I'm old enough for marriage and lately, I have been thinking–"

"Ianto!"

Gwyneth watched as Ianto flinched and stepped back, his eyes full of fear for a moment before he managed to school his features and nod.

"Father."

"Go back inside!" The man snapped. "What have I said about you talking to my customers?"

Without answering, Ianto turned back to her, took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "It was a pleasure meeting you again, Miss Cooper."

"I apologise about him," Alun Jones said, shaking his head as his son disappeared through the back door. "People – especially young ladies such as yourself – always allow him too much."

"There is nothing to apologise for," Gwyneth assured with a sigh. The encounter left behind the faint feeling of losing something she'd never had in the first place. Maybe next time, then.

**o.O.o**

Ianto was trying desperately to focus on the lesson in front of him, but it wasn't working. Usually, he was as good a student as one could get – it had cost his father a fortune to have him study to be a doctor and he didn't let him forget it – but not today.

It was Thursday again, which meant that Mr Sneed's maiden would be back. He smiled to himself. Gwyneth. He'd been so close to doing something that would either be extremely foolish or the best idea he'd ever had.

He felt as if his mother's engagement ring would burn a hole through his pocket. He knew she would accept, of course; he didn't think there was a girl in Cardiff that wouldn't. If there was one thing Ianto was aware of, it was the effect he had on people. He knew that his family thought he was an idiot for directing his affections towards the servant from the funeral parlour, but he couldn't help himself. There was something about Gwyneth that drew him in more than any of the others who tried to attract his attention.

"Are you waiting for your lady friend?"

Ianto quickly took his feet off the table and straightened his back as his father came in. "And what if I am?" He challenged.

"Then you're wasting your time. I doubt that she would be able to come."

"What do you mean?" There was something in his father's eyes; something that usually showed up only when he had bad news and would take great joy in delivering them.

"Did you not hear? She died. Three nights ago, in the parlour. Something happened to one of the bodies, she thought it was alive. Her heart couldn't take it."

And just like that, the world shattered around him.

**o.O.o**

"Ianto? I think I got it," Gwen shouted and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"You did? What is it?"

"Looks like a remote control or something." Gwen waved it from her place several gravestones away. "Definitely not human."

The same morning, there had been Rift activity all around the city – small objects, but many of them – and they had split to cover up as much ground as they could as quickly as possible. Gwen and Ianto's signal had led them to a graveyard and here he was, staring at a name and absolutely unable to place it.

"It might be human, actually," he said when Gwen approached and tossed it to him. "Just coming from several centuries from now. We have one like it in the Archives. Speaking of the Archives, does that name ring a bell, or is it just me?"

The date on the gravestone was from nearly a century and a half ago, but it was still clearly visible. _Gwyneth Cooper, 1848-1869_.

"It does," Gwen said pensively. "She was my great-great-something aunt. How come you've heard of her, though? I don't think she did anything memorable. In the end she went a bit, you know."

"She didn't," Ianto said softly. He quickly made the calculations; she'd been twenty-one when she'd died. "We've got her in the Archives; now I remember. The circumstances around her death were suspicious enough for Torchwood Three to take interest in it. There were some aliens – calling themselves Gelths, I believe – and they tried to get through the Rift. She took pity of them and tried to help them." He smiled sideway at her and saw Gwen return it. "But they used her and almost took over the world."

"What happened then?" Gwen asked after a small pause and Ianto shrugged.

"Not sure. That was quite literally in the first days of Three and the reports aren't that clear. They got involved so they could cover the tracks, but that was all. They made it up to be a heart attack because it would be easier to explain, but mostly they were sure that the Doctor was involved."

He looked at Gwen to see her shiver in her leather jacket and took off his coat to drape it over her shoulders. She smiled gratefully and closed it around herself. "Let's go, eh?" She said. "This place is giving me the chills."

Ianto nodded and leant down to kiss her forehead. Some strange, unfamiliar affection had passed through him all of a sudden and he couldn't resist the urge.

Gwen stared up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "What was that for?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "You're right, this place is creepy. Let's go home."


End file.
